Stella popped a pan of enchiladas in the oven while waiting for Frank to return from the airport with his sister, Nan, and her husband Tom; this was their second visit, and Stella was praying they’d decide to relocate.
Such an immense transition was neither simple nor inexpensive for a couple on the cusp of retirement; but Stella thought she and Frank were a convincing example that, with a little faith, the second half of adulthood could be an adventure.
As the kitchen filled with flavorful fragrance, the door opened on Nan’s laughter—a lilting above the men’s voices—and Nan and Stella rushed into each other’s embrace.
Over dinner, Nan exclaimed about the larger size of Stella’s new dining table—which led to a spirited, dramatic recital of the “famous furniture fiasco’s” fabulous finale.
Tom noted, “You missed your calling, Stella—Nan told me you’re writing stories, but you could pursue a second career in theater.”
“Careful, Tom,” Frank affected sternness: “when Matt Dillon was filming a movie in town last year, suddenly my dear wife ran out of all grocery staples, had to shop at the market everyday—the one right across from Matt’s hotel”; amid his family’s bursting guffaws, he added, “I feared I’d lost her to Hollywood’s klieg lights and that slick weasel…sorry…younger stud.”
© Stella Carousel, 2017 ~ All rights reserved.
Images ~ Pixabay